Look What the Storm Dragged In
by Anne Bloomcliff
Summary: BuffyAngel crossover takes place a few weeks after the final episode of Angel.  A demonic storm reunites everyone and in the middle of the rescue mission and cleanup, Buffy discovers what really happened to Spike.
1. Chapter 1

Buffy Summers awoke with a yawn as she stretched her arms above her head, the early morning sunlight streaming down upon her bed. She glanced at her clock. Ugh. 8:30. She was going to be late for classes once again it appeared. She wondered, as she often did, what time it was it Sunnydale right now.

Well, if there _was_ a Sunnydale, seeing as it had come crashing down into the earth's core over a year earlier. But suppose it hadn't? What would she have been doing at this very moment, with her friends by her side? She contemplated what her friends were up to right now.

Willow and her beloved girlfriend Kennedy were somewhere in South America recruiting new slayers. "Meaning it would be, what, 3:30?", thought the Slayer, scrunching her brow in concentration. If it was in fact 3 a.m., Buffy quickly erased any thoughts of what _they_ might be up to. She could never really grasp the time zone stuff, as she learned after many a scolding when accidentally calling her old watcher Giles in the middle of the night. Giles was back in England (unsurprisingly) teaching (God help us, thought Buffy) Andrew to be a watcher to all the newly emerging slayers they had unleashed a year ago. Buffy laughed at the thought. And Zander. Sweet, lovable, Zander. The last Buffy had heard from him, he was somewhere in the States, but he never stayed anywhere too long.

Buffy, still trying to forgo dragging herself out of bed, turned to her right, unconcerned by the unoccupied space. She had been dating The Immortal, a magical creature of some sort that was greatly admired throughout Rome, but that didn't last long. She ended the relationship not long after some friends, well not really friends, but acquaintances, told her of two very handsome men who had been searching for her, to warn her of The Immortal. The one-tall, dark, handsome, and brooding-was undoubtedly Angel. Though he was, for all she knew, busy running WolfRam and Hart in L.A., it would be all too like him to come spy on her. He was always the jealous and overly protective type, even if their relationship was mostly platonic now. The other-a shorter, but very attractive, bleached blonde- it couldn't be, it was impossible…Buffy stopped herself right there. Spike was dead. Well, more than previously. He was gone, for more than a year now. But she had never truly gotten over it. Not really. For weeks, the image of him about to explode into a column of light, her last words to him, haunted her. And when she had thought she was finally ready to move on, here came this news, bringing back all sorts of buried thoughts and emotions, undoubtedly causing her break up with The Immortal.

Buffy lazily rolled back to her left side. Ugh. 8:40. She wondered it she should even bother. She could keep Dawn out of school for the day and play hooky. Go shopping or see a movie. Dawn had been hinting lately how she barely got to see her sister anymore, despite the fact that they shared an apartment. But, her university here in Rome wasn't exactly as relaxed as U.C. Sunnydale, and her skipping in order to catch a few more zzzs would not be taken kindly.

But, no. What Buffy really wanted to do was talk to her friends. As if someone suddenly read her mind (which, knowing her friends, wasn't all that surprising), the phone rang.

Buffy swung her arm towards her bedside table, groping for the phone. "Hello?" she said groggily once bringing the phone to her ear, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with her other hand.

"Hey Buff!"

Buffy cheered up instantly at the sound of the familiar and cheerful voice and sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. "Hey, Will! I was just thinking about you! How have you been?".

"Umm, well, Brazil's been great! But other than that…", Willow's voice started to fade with uncertainty of how to continue. "We're okay, well no, not really. Something's up."

"Of course," Buffy said, knowing all too well that something was always up, ever since becoming a Slayer at age sixteen. "What's up?".

"Well, I've sort of been having these dreams…"

"Premonitions?", Buffy interrupted the young witch.

"Well, umm, yeah, sort of. But I didn't know what to think of them at first. So I contacted the Coven and Giles. The Coven's seen stuff, too. Something's gonna' happen."

"Well, what is it? Demons? Vamps? Hell gods? Cranky preachers? Evil politicians?" the Slayer joked.

"This is gonna' sound lame but…a hurricane," Willow gulped.

"Wait a minute here," said Buffy confused, "That's natural, not supernatural. Kinda' out of my jurisdiction. Try the Weather Service."

"This isn't natural. It's gonna' be big. And bad," said Willow's nervous voice, "It's gonna' bring chaos. We're talking floods, fires. I'm thinking plagues of locust, but that's just me. And demon involvement is almost certain. People need our help!"

"Yeah, but…"

Thousands will die!," Willow yelled, now defiant in her commands to her reluctant friend, catching Buffy off guard. For a moment, there was dead silence and then, softly, "We need to rally the girls. Get in contact with the military, they'll be there. Colonel Graham."

"Where…?"

"It's coming off the Gulf Stream Currents, hitting England, France, Spain, probably more. We're talking serious damage, nothing like it before. It's not natural for this to happen there."

"When…?"

"In three days," she said abruptly. The seriousness of the situation finally hit like a wave Buffy, as silence sliced between the two friends.

After a few seconds of thinking, Buffy said, "Okay, umm, okay. I'll contact Graham, see if he can get us transportation. Can you contact Giles again, have him assemble the troops?"

"Of course," Willow said in a sigh of relief that her friend had finally taken charge, "These people are gonna' need the strength of the slayer, demons or not."

"Okay, I'll get in contact soon. Bye Will, tell Ken I said 'Hi'".

"Bye Buffy. Oh, and sorry for being all, 'Ahhh'," said Willow finally showing a little of her fun and slightly spastic side that her friends loved her for so much.

Buffy laughed, "It's fine. Bye." She hung up the phone and rubbed her temples, subconsciously attempting to avoid her inevitable headache.

"Well, I guess I'm not going to class after all."

With that, Buffy rolled her eyes and slumped back down into bed in defeat.


	2. Sleepless Night

A/N: Sorry, I didn't include an author's note in the first chapter since I'm new to this fanfiction thing! I've been wondering for awhile if I could ever write one, then I remembered this story which I had written 2 years ago and had kept stuffed in my desk! I hope you like this story and PLEASE PLEASE review as this is my first fanfic! Thanks! This chapter meets up with the Angel gang for the first time, as I hope it would all really happen in the series after it met it's untimely end!

Disclosure: I do not own Buffy, Angel, or any of the characters, because if I did, Riley would never have been on the show except when he's married and Spike makes fun of him. Nor will I ever be as talented as Joss Whedon.

Angel awoke instantly as lightening flashed across his face. It had been raining hard off and on for the past two weeks ever since…Ever since they had battled all the evil they'd released from WolfRam and Hart into the streets of Los Angeles. He had a feeling the rain was somehow connected to that awful night and all that had occurred, but it was unimportant. It would die down soon enough, like so many other things…

It had been a miracle that he, or anyone for that matter, had survived. Even for a 250-odd year old vampire, fighting dragons and thousands of years of ancient evils is not easy work. His body was still sore.

The next flash of lightening illuminated the person lying next to him. As he looked over at his girlfriend, he thought how, though he could never love anyone as much as he had loved Buffy or still loved Cordie, he really cared for Nina. And being blonde and petite, she was very pretty, except for those three nights a month she became slightly hairy and began howling at the moon. It's not like he didn't have his own quirks, thought the vampire to himself.

Unable to sleep, he quietly got out of bed, gently placing a kiss on Nina's forehead. She stirred slightly, but he made sure not to wake her as he enjoyed the look of peaceful slumber on her delicate face. They could all use a little peace about now.

As he walked down to the staircase leading to the lobby, he thought of how odd it was to be back in the hotel once again. Without Cordelia. Without Fred. Without Wesley. Three soldiers fallen. Three of his friends gone. And with Angel, friends weren't exactly easy to come by.

Angel paused slightly when he reached the bottom of the stairs, as he noticed the glow from the TV filling the lobby.

"So Spike," said Angel, "You couldn't sleep either?".

"Huh?…Wait! What?" Spike jumped up from his now obvious slumber on the couch. "Eh, yeah, that's right, couldn't sleep," said Spike attempting to defend himself as he noticed Angel standing in the light near the mini fridge behind the front desk.

"Uh-huh," said Angel nonchalantly, not quite feeling up to the Brit vampire's antics, as he grabbed a cup of pig's blood from the fridge.

Spike had in fact died as Buffy had believed over the past year, helping save the world with the help of an amulet that clearly redefined "killer fashion". And it was the same amulet that had brought Spike back, unbeknownst to Buffy. Since then he had been helping Angel fight the forces of darkness and what not, surprising considering the constant rivalry between the two, years ago as evil vampire friends (and more often, enemies) and now as the only two vampires with souls. The only two vampires who had loved Buffy. Hence, their relationship wasn't always the smoothest.

"What's keeping' you up?" said Spike in his clear British accent.

"The storm. If it has something to do with the evil we released from WolfRam and Hart, you'd think it would have stopped by now," said Angel, before taking a sip of blood.

"You two can't sleep either?" said Charles Gunn, as he rolled into the room from a side hallway on his wheelchair from around the corner. They all had thought that Gunn had certainly met his end that night, just as Wesley had, receiving a brutal stab through his abdomen. It had been a miracle that he had made it through. He wouldn't even need the wheelchair for much longer."

"'Fraid not, mate," said Spike.

"I guess we're all still a little spooked from that night," said Angel, still sounding slightly defeated.

"But it ain't like we all haven't faced apocalypses before. But that night…" Gunn couldn't seem to bring himself to continue.

The three men, well the man and the two vampires, all silently agreed.

There was another great flash of lightening, disclosing a fourth figure in the room. "Why are you not all asleep?" asked the aloof Illyeria, her head cocked to one side.

"Do you have to sneak up like that?" asked Angel angrily.

They were silent once again. In that flash, for just a moment, Illyeria had looked like, like, the person that had once inhabited that body. Fred. Winifred Berkel. Their sweet, lovable, smart, and a tad crazy Fred, overtaken by the ancient blue demon god Illyeris who, stripped of powers, helped fight evil. It was all very confusing.

"Well I guess it's official. Nearly everyone's up. May as well make it a party," said Spike, reaching for his unfinished glass o vodka beside him on the coffee table, downing it in an instant.

Quickly after that statement, another burst of lightening illuminated a man in the doorway. Or what appeared to be a man. Though dressed in khaki trousers, a gaudy shirt appropriate for a sleazy Hollywood director, a tan trench coat, and a black fedora, his skin was green, eyes and lips clearly vivid red.

"Lorne?"

A/N: Please review! I'd love to hear feedback on what to improve, what you hate, and if you like it! The button's right over there! You know you want to!


	3. Strange Visitations

A/N-Hey, thanks for all who read and reviewed and those who just read. I've just fixed it so our fanfic account-less friends that are just as loved may review, so please do! I hope you all enjoy!

I don't own the Buffy or Angel verses, sadly. If I did, a certain ex-demon would not have been left at the alter!

"Lorne?" asked a shocked and confused Angel. The vampire wondered whether his eyes were playing tricks on him in the stormy night, as he stared at the figure in the doorway. "Is that you?"

The man stepped down the lobby's front entrance steps into the light. "Yeah, it's me," he said, his usually cheery and charming tone now gone, replaced by the sound of someone much too tired and worn out to be standing there.

Lorne, a demon able to read minds and auras through song, had long been apart of Angel's gang as the fun and lovable entertainment guru. But before the last battle, Lorne had said that once he finished his part of the mission, he was leaving. For good.

"But I thought…" Gunn began, also thrown by the demon's sudden appearance back into their lives.

"So did I," finished Lorne with a snap. "But I've got a message for you."

"Now, wait, slow down here. Lorne, how…how are you?," Angel stepped toward his old friend. "Where have you been? What's going…"

"Breathe, Angel cakes. I don't, well actually, _you _don't have a lot of time. A mission."

"Okay. What is it?" said Spike, sounding slightly bored with the demon's increasingly cryptic tone. Hoping for this dance to finish soon, Spike raised an eyebrow as he folded his arms over his chest, now leaning against the back of the couch.

"I saw something, when I was reading someone. But it went all wonky and off topic. I saw something bad coming."

"Not another apocalypse," moaned Spike. "They usually leave off till at least May."

"No, not an apocalypse. But it's gonna' be hell on Earth for a lot of people."

"Well…?" prompted Gunn, quickly tiring of the demon's theatrics.

"A hurricane."

Angel laughed, eyebrows arched, "How do you expect us to stop a…"

"Not stop, just help." Lorne looked around at the odd group, their eyes grasping for some understanding. "It may or may not be demon related, but things are gonna' get bad," he paused, "Thousands will die. They need your help."

"Yeah, but as you see," Gunn pointed to his wheelchair. "I'm pretty useless and Spike and Angel are pretty, well, flammable."

"You'll find a way," Lorne said angrily in a tone they still were unfamiliar with from their lighthearted friend. "It may not seem like it, but there are people who are gonna' need you. People are gonna' get desperate. People do crazy things when they're afraid. Things are gonna' get bad. Madonna movies bad."

"Evita or Swept Away?" asked Gunn, his broad smile filling his face.

"Swept Away," Lorne sighed, though the faintest of smiles crossed his red lips. In the most desperate of times, Angel's gang always kept the jokes flowing, and this brought back some much pleasanter memories for Lorne. Some.

"That's serious," Spike mumbled.

Lorne turned to leave and walked to the door. As he looked back he said, "You have three days. It's gonna hit Western Europe, for some odd reason. England, France, and Spain the most."

He turned his head. As he was about to leave, he paused, "You'll do good."

He walked through the doorway, without looking back, and out of sight.

A/N- I'm sorry if you're a Madonna fan. I actually LOVE Evita and hate to dis it, but it's a throw back to Angel. Can you guess it? Try and if you're right, I'll give you a virtual hug! Please review and I promise to reply back!


	4. General Orders

A/N- And back to the Buffster. If you haven't realized, I write really short and sweet chapters because I get bored easily. Tehe. And carpal tunnel is no fun.

To non-account users, thank you Rachel for reviewing. I think everyone should follow your example!

And once again, I don't own Buffy or Angel, sadly. If I did, Cordelia and Angel would have run off happily into the figurative sunset. Not a literal one. For obvious reasons.

"Do you know where my sweater is?" asked Buffy, leaning over a half-packed suitcase.

"I still don't completely understand," said Buffy's 17 year old sister (for all intensive purposes) Dawn.

Before Buffy could answer, the phone rang.

"Could you…?" asked Buffy, arching one eyebrow at her younger sister expectantly.

At 17, Dawn still felt she was always treated as a child. Still, Dawn stomped off bitterly towards the phone, "Hello?"

Dawn listened for a moment, then replied, "Yeah, one second." She walked the phone to Buffy and with her palm covering the receiver, said, "It's a General Graham?"

General Graham was in charge of a "special" military co-opt trained to capture, kill, and study demons. Buffy had met him through an old boyfriend, Riley, a member of the "special" co-opt.

Buffy took the phone. "Hello General Graham. I see the florist gave you my message," Buffy smirked as a memory from about three years prior floated through her brain.

"And wonderful to hear from you again, Miss Summers. Now what seems to be the problem?"

"It's about the Hurricane," Buffy explained, "I'm sure you know all about it. Hurricane Aikya, I believe. Everyone's calling it a marvel, hurricanes being so uncommon in Western Europe. No one realizes what's gonna' happen until it's too late."

"Once again you are right, Miss Summers. The military plans on assisting. Rescuing and keeping the peace. But why are you getting involved? I didn't know of any demonic involvement," the general asked.

Buffy bit her lip as she decided how to explain, "Neither do we. But with a storm of this rarity and size, it's more than a possibility. But we figured we'd send over _our_ troops, in case some extra strength is needed.

"Indeed," said Graham, "I'm sure these people will certainly be in use of an army of slayers. So, I suspect you want transportation?"

"And perhaps lodgings, whatever else you can spare."

"No problem. I'll send helicopters as soon as the storm lets down. That's when the real fun begins."

"Great," Buffy replied sarcastically, "You can contact Rupert Giles, my watcher, for all the arrangements."

"Will do."

"Thanks again, General."

"Anytime."

Buffy hung up the phone and returned to her attention back to the contents of her suitcase.

"So what exactly are we going to do over there?" asked Dawn impatiently, her arms crossed over her chest in her usual teen angst manner.

"Well," Buffy began, never looking up from her suitcase, "There's going to be flooding, we're talking 'Gather the animals' flooding. Fires, too. So I suppose rescuing people from homes, preventing looting,…collecting the bodies," Buffy said quietly.

"Won't it upset some of the girls who are from there? Molly and…and Bailey. They haven't even been home in months. What if they find…?"

Here, Buffy finally looked up. "They're strong girls, Dawn. They'll get through it."

"If we do," Dawn muttered, not very comforted by her sister's words.

"Hmmm…what was that?" Buffy asked.

"Oh, nothing."

A/N- Are two author notes annoying? Oh well. Does anyone get the florist reference? If you do, tell me and I'll give you another virtual hug. And Aikya sounds like a very odd name for a hurricane, but there's a meaning behind it. Can anyone figure it out?


	5. Packing In Discussions

A/N- Thanks to all who have reviewed and please keep reading! I wish my updates could be more frequent, but with school starting up I'll be short on time. I'll try to keep up on it though! Yay for pure Angel and Spike banter!

I do not own any part of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel. If I did, Illyria would have stayed down in her well.

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"So, tell me again why the bloody hell we're doing this?" asked Spike arrogantly.

"People need our help," replied Angel, as he continued to pack supplies. Spike, being the helpful team player he was, lounged in a corner nearby.

"But this isn't exactly our cup of tea now, is it?" Spike skeptically raised his eyebrows, "Doesn't seem necessarily dire." The vamp clasped his hands behind his blonde head and further relaxed into the chair.

Angel sighed in aggravation and, his voice rising in anger at his companion's ignorance, said, "It's gonna' be big. Like…like…" Angel searched his 200 year-plus memory for a comparison to this anomaly. His eyes brightened slightly as his mind grasped onto something, "Haven't you heard of Hurricane Andrew? It's like that, but about ten times worse."

"Heard of it?" said Spike, leaving the confines of his comfortable chair, walked forward, "Heard of it? I bloody lived with it for months, did you forget? Not to mention a few dozen hormonal teenage slayerettes and every member of the bloody Scooby gang, for God knows what reason, in the same house!"

"I wasn't being figurative, Captain Peroxide! I was being literal!" Angel yelled at Spike in pure disbelief at his idiocy. "Hurricane Andrew. In Florida. Nearly 15 years ago. Really bad," Angel cocked his head to one side as his eyebrows reached towards one another in astonishment, "Has the bleach really affected all the parts of your brain?"

"I still say mine was worse." Spike gave a menacing look and stalked away.

Gunn wheeled into the room, "As much as I hate to say this, as in loathe myself for even thinking it, Spike has a point. What exactly are we gonna' do down there?"

Angel turned to face his temporarily paralyzed friend, "I, I don't know. Spike and I will go out at night, I guess, rescue people caught in the flooding. I don't know if I should dare taking Illyria. She _could_ transform into…Fred," Angel gulped, still distraught with the painful memories. He continued, "So as not to freak out the locals, any more than they all ready have to bear. She still has her strength. But she'll probably just be making odd statements about human behavior the whole time. Giving the "muck at her feet" speech. Again. Have you decided what you're doing?"

Gunn nodded. "I'm coming. Like I'd miss out on a mission! I'm getting' out of this hell on wheels. I'll be fine."

"Good, good, fine. That'll, that'll be great," Angel replied in a high pitched voice, attempting to conceal his skepticism. Angel sighed once again, "You know, here's the thing. People need our help. Period. So it's not what we usually handle, maybe not the "excitement" we're used to. But we've done things like this before, fires and such. So everyone stop making a big deal out of it! That's it!"

"Okay then," Gunn nodded in agreement, but smiled to himself at the sight of his usually calm and collected boss throw a hissy fit. "Besides," Gunn continued, "I've always wanted to see Europe. Big Ben. The Eiffel Tower. All that touristy stuff."

"It's not that great," Angel and Spike said oddly in unison. They looked at each other warily, not wanting to remember their activities in their old stomping grounds, back in their pre-soul days. The havoc they wreaked on the streets they would now be returning to in order to fix, not destroy. To save, not kill. The irony did not escape them.

"We'll leave first thing tomorrow night," Angel stopped the odd silence. Do you remember the old client of ours, with the tons of dough? How I first ran into you?"

Gunn nodded and smiled smugly. "Oh yeah, the 'Dungeons and Dragons' techno nerd. I remember, I almost killed you. That was fun!" Gunn raised his eyebrows as he laughed heartily.

"Hang on, hang on," Spike said, his hands now held up before him, "I'd like to hear more about this." He walked toward Gunn, his right hand on his chin, the other pointing towards Gunn. "You know, I knew I always liked you."

"Spike!" said Angel annoyed. "Anyway, David decided to lend us one of his private jets to fly us over to Europe, so I wouldn't be calling him a 'nerd' to his face. From wherever we are then, we'll drive to wherever the storm hits."

"Sounds fun." Though the three knew it would be anything but.


	6. Worries and War Cries

A/N- I've gotten a few reviews but not nearly enough. Writers' love feedback and anything good, bad, or insightful is appreciated! I'm glad so many of you are reading and enjoying it!

This is just a quick little chapter catching up with the girls. I promise that once I soon get through with my material written about two years ago and start writing fresh stuff again, chapters will get longer!

I do not own any part of Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Angel. If I did, there would have been WAY more Spuffy scenes.

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One by one and two by two, girls left Buffy's apartment, chit-chatting all the way down the hallway, suitcases and backpacks in hand. To any one of Buffy's neighbors, who were not at all pleased with this interruption to their sleep schedule, these were just a bunch of loud and normal teenage girls. They had no idea, through their sleepy hazes, how wrong they were. Loud? Yes. Normal? Hardly. These girls were strong, confident, and able to kick some serious demon ass. They were slayers. For the past two millennia or so, only one slayer had existed per generation, minus the Buffy/Kendra and Buffy/Faith exceptions. As Giles used to say, "To each generation, a slayer is born. One girl in all the world, a chosen one, one born with the strength and skill to hunt the vampires." But thanks to some magic mojo from Willow over a year ago, there were now hundreds of slayers all over the world. So far, the Scooby Gang was no where near close to locating everyone. Those they did, they formed into powerful and righteous slayer armies.

The last to leave the apartment were Dawn and Buffy.

"So," said Dawn as Buffy locked the apartment door behind her, " How many slayers are coming?"

After Buffy turned away from the apartment, they continued down the hall, out of earshot of the girls. "Only the ones who have been here the longest. It's not going to be pretty, we need girls who can handle it. Probably about 60, 65. Our group along with a few others flying in. Giles' and Andrew's girls obviously evacuated as quickly as they could, being directly in the storm's path. They'll be meeting us when we arrive."

"But where are we gonna' stay? I can _not_ stay in some tiny house with that many slayers again! I won't. I can't. I refuse!"

Buffy laughed, "It'll be fine. Graham set us up with a Headquarters on high ground. Don't worry."

One worry now gone, Dawn switched gears to another pressing issue. "So…any idea if there's demon involvement yet?"

Buffy glanced at her younger sister, compassion in her eyes. "No, not that we know of."

Dawn bit her lip. Demons had always been apart of her life. Not necessarily a great part, but with a sister as the slayer, they had seen and defeated worse. The possibility of no demons, that this disaster could be some natural occurrence, was a bit out of their comfort zone. "What will we do if there isn't demon involvement?"

"Do just as we planned," Buffy replied calmly, "We'll help. The better question is, what do we do if there _is?"_

"I guess so," replied Dawn quietly, more to herself than to her sister.

The raucous group continued down the hall, eliciting more than a few angry yells from sleepy neighbors.

"Sia calmo, voi femmine piccole!"

"Dormiamo!"

"Ora quando è?"

These outbursts did little to quiet the girls, excited at the idea of a new mission, however frightening. It was this thrill, paired with the fact that most spoke little, if any, Italian that kept them yelling and running down the hall. After realizing their complaints had little effect, most gave in, pulled the pillows over their heads, and drifted back to sleep.

The group left the front doors and continued down into the streets of Rome, the first of the sun's rays beginning to infiltrate the night's inky black sky. Even in the beauty and calm of the approaching dawn, the slayers continued their girlish laughter and silly war cries.

When they finally came upon the field, as the General Graham had instructed Buffy to do in a later phone conversation, the girls were suddenly silent. They gasped at what lay before them.

"Damn," said one Brooklyn accented slayer, looking to her friend beside her in disbelief.

"Nice jet," said one pimple ridden slayer.

"A girl could get used to this," said another.


	7. A Lovely Ride In the Country

A/N- I do not own anything of Buffy or Angel. Except all those back issues of the Buffy magazine. I swear I paid for those!

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"Spike!" Angel said, shaking the shoulder of the unconscious one lying on the couch of the private jet. "Spike! Wake up. We're here."

"Yeah, Yeah. I'm up," yawned Spike lazily, "Where's _here_ exactly?"

"Poland."

"Why are we in Poland? I thought the storm was hittin'…" asked a confused Spike, cocking his head to one side. His logic wasn't at his best as he was waking up.

"Yes, that's why we flew here. This is the closest airport to the storm that isn't closed. All others have been abandoned. From here, we'll drive to the areas affected. By then, the storm will have dissipated."

"What time is it?" asked Spike.

"About eight o'clock. The sun's setting as we speak," replied Gunn, now wheelchair free. Though his strength was returning, he was still a little slow in his steps, as was evident as he walked through the jet's door from outside. They had landed a little over an hour ago, but seeing as the last few rays of the sun were still evident, the team had to wait until it was certain the two vamps would be safe. A restless Gunn had gone back and forth from the private runway to the aircraft, keeping the awake vampire alert on the increasing darkness.

"Good, let's get going then. We should get there before sunrise. Then we'll find shelter," said Angel.

"Oh, goodie. Eight hours in the car with Blondie Bear and Queen Blue. This should be fun," said Spike with a smirk.

"Woah, woah, woah. Guys! Cut the crap, okay? We have a lot of work to do, so let's just go," ordered a much perturbed Angel.

The four walked from the jet one by one and continued to the car. There, Angel took the driver's seat, Spike sat shotgun, not willing to be further insulted by sitting in the back, where Illyria and a hesitant Gunn sat.

Twenty minutes into the drive, a battle different than the group was familiar with was about to occur. The group had been sitting in stony silence, both out of fear of what was to come and pure annoyance of being trapped in a car with their fellow companions.

"She's staring at me again," said Gunn, trying to avoid Illyria's gaze.

"Illyria. Stop staring at Gunn," Angel told Illyria half-heartedly, much like the annoyed father of the group.

"I find him fascinating," said the always eerie god, "He's so…"

"Ya' know, I really don't wanna' hear it," Gunn raised his palm as if to stop her in her tracks.

"And will you stop playing with the radio!" erupted Angel at Spike, who was twisting the car's radio dial to and fro, creating a squeaking racket in an attempt to find anything to suit his particular musical tastes.

"Well, sorry mate, I suppose I don't prefer the accordion as much as the avid Barry Manilow fan might."

"She's still staring at me!" shouted Gunn, more concerned about this continuing development than what music was being played at the time. Between Spike's curse-filled grumblings and incessant turning of the radio dials, despite Angel's warnings, Gunn's outbursts, and Illyria's odd mutterings, the jarring mesh of sounds crazed Angel. It had been quite a long trip, after all, and he wasn't quite sure how much more he could take.

"You know, if you all don't quit it right now, I swear I will turn this car around!" shouted Angel, once again father-like.

"Wouldn't bother me any," snorted Spike.

The four of them stuffed inside the small European car had reached the breaking point. With his left hand somewhat on the wheel, Angel hit Spike upside the head. Spike then pushed Angel to the side. If they had not been in such a particularly small European model, a full out brawl would have ensued. Being as it was, however, they simply swerved off the road into a ditch.

"Wonderful driving. You know…"Spike said sarcastically.

"Shut up. Look!" said Angel. He motioned forward where maybe 100 years away, where dark, thick storm clouds lay.

"What the…Where did those come from?" Spike asked to no one in particular.

"Good question." answered Angel, now preoccupied enough to have forgotten their previous mishap.

"Crap," said Gunn.

"It is beautiful," remarked Illyria oddly. They all turned to her, staring. "This dark reminds me of home. I enjoy this." She made some semblance of an unusual smile.

The other three looked at each other in disbelief, and sighed in defeat.

"Fabulous," said Spike. "Bloody fabulous."

"Looks like we got our work cut out of us," said Gunn. He had no idea how right he was.

"Oh yeah. Well, I guess we'd better get going then," sighed Angel.

And so they drove off, after first working themselves out of the ditch. They drove into the storm that lay ahead.


	8. New Meetings With Old Friends

A/N-oh, reunions! The first (well, not really first) of many!

I do not own anything of the Buffy verse. If I did, every episode would be like "Once More With Feeling". Well, maybe not every episode.

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"Oh my God!" cried Dawn with her sweater over her head as her only means of protection as she dodged the ferocious rain drops that fell around her and the ping pong size hailstones. They had just gotten off the jet, it being almost unable to land. All around her, the wind whipped and various objects went flying as the slayers fled toward the security and dryness of the Military Headquarters, their new home for however long this new mission would take. "Oh my God! Oh my God! That's it! I'm never trusting the government ever again. They said we'd get here _after_ the storm passed."

"It did pass," replied Buffy, running up from behind her, shouting over the roaring winds. "This is the aftermath of the storm. Come on, we have to get inside." She grabbed her by the hand and they ran.

They reached the building and stepped inside headquarters. "Definitely not cozy," thought Buffy to herself, looking around at the room, "But much improved from the outside."

"This is crazy," cried Dawn, "There's, like, three feet of water outside and we're on high ground! Did you see the city when we were flying in? It looks like…"

"Hell?" interrupted Kennedy, who stepped in from another room. Her fingers were entwined with another, the hand of a red head.

"Willow! Kennedy!" Dawn screamed in delight, after not having seen her friends in months, and proceeded in hugging them both.

"Dawnie! Oh, I missed you so much!" said Willow cheerfully. But her face quickly became sullen. "Yeah it's pretty bad out there." Willow bite her lip, while Kennedy squeeze dher girlfriend's hand tighter.

"This is awful! Why didn't they evacuate? Could anyone even be alive out there?" Dawn searched her two friends' faces for an answer.

"Well, they didn't have enough time, I guess," reasoned Buffy. "Too many people. They didn't know exactly when or where it was hitting."

"Don't worry Dawn. We'll save them," said Kennedy. She just hoped it would be true.

"Where's the rest of the gang?" asked Buffy, as soaking wet girls continued to run past them into the security of the military headquarters. Buffy took the end of her long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, whipped it around, and wrung out the water from it with her hands.

"Well, I hear that that dashing Alexander Harris was mobbed by too many beautiful women to come," said a voice over Buffy's left shoulder.

Buffy turned. She should have known. "Xander!" she yelled as she leapt into the arms of her eye-patched friend. From the room behind him emerged Giles, quickly cleaning his glasses in his usual manner, then putting them on to get a better look at Buffy. She gave her old watcher and loving father figure an equally joyful hug.

As she stepped away from the embrace, Buffy noticed Andrew had also quietly entered the room. He couldn't seem to look Buffy in the eye, but rather diverted them to the sopping wet floor as he said, "Hi, Buffy."

"Weird," thought Buffy, "But hey! Would I expect anything less from Andrew?"

Buffy looked around at all her friends. It was the first time they had really been together since their last apocalypse.

"Well, I guess the gang's all here!" Willow tried to say cheerfully, yet failed miserably. Secretly, they all knew the gang wasn't all there. No one would admit it, but all were thinking about a certain bunny-fearing friend.

Finally, Buffy broke the ice, "And it took long enough! Whatever happened to the mall trip I was promised?" asked Buffy jokingly, referring to their talk before their last trip to the Hellmouth, " Why can't we ever do that? Aren't there ever any apocalypse there?" she said with a smile. Her friends smiled back.

"So what's the plan?" asked Xander, rubbing his palms together and stepping lcoser, tightening the circle.

"Well, if you haven't noticed," began Giles, crossing his arms, "We can't exactly go out right now. So once it clears up slightly, hopefully by morning, we can go and start the rescue efforts."

"And I can kick whatever's beastie's ass that's behind this!"

Buffy looked towards the source of the outburst and was shocked who she saw. The surprises just never seemed to end lately. "Faith! I didn't expect…"

"Well, us veteran slayers got to keep these newbies in line, right?" Faith cocked an eyebrow and turned to face a freckle faced, pigtailed girl, "Hey, no slouching!" she scoffed, pointing a stern finger. The girl straightened up and scampered away in a panic. Faith laughed.

"Something's a-brewin', alright," thought Buffy, "Just not necessarily the storm."


End file.
